


The Eyes of an Angel

by critterdee_67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Homosexuality, M/M, Memories/Mentions of Severe Abuse, Underage sexual exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 12:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/critterdee_67/pseuds/critterdee_67
Summary: Dean is a journalist and has been traveling and working away from home for almost ten years. He tries to keep in touch with the happenings of family and friends through his brother Sam.When he gets news about his childhood friend, Cas, - and the troubles he is facing - Dean finally decides to make that trip back to Kansas.The visit is two-fold, firstly he needs to make sure his friend is alright, and secondly, this is an opportunity for a documentary that fits his humanitarian scope of work - and maybe it will help in the research of the unique issue that is plaguing his friend.





	The Eyes of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This story and characters are fictional.  
> No identification with actual individuals is intended.  
> M/M, Homosexuality, Underage sexual exploration,  
> Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mentions of Severe Abuse
> 
> Special thanks to [MalMuses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/pseuds/MalMuses) for being such a wonderful beta!

Welcome to my blog. My name is Dean Winchester, a freelance journalist. I grew up in Lebanon, Kansas with my brother Sam. Sam and his wife Jessica still live in Kansas; Kansas City now, with their three kids, Jack, Emma, and Claire. My parents, John and Mary, also reside in Kansas, although they have moved from Lebanon to Lawrence to be near Sam, they live in a condo in a little retirement village on a golf course. (John Winchester, former baseball star turned golfing-retiree-extraordinaire). I never married — much to the chagrin of my mother, who doesn't believe three grandchildren is enough, and cannot understand why I’m still hoping all over the globe chasing ‘those crazy headlines’ as she puts it.

I spent my early working years with the local newspaper, then moved to New York when I landed a job at the New Yorker, I thought that was my dream job; I guess at 22 it was. Then I got my first assignment with CNN and was sent to Iraq to follow an Army Medical team throughout their 6-month stint, which was supposed to remain in the background and support a mobile medical hospital. After the second week, the medical unit and I ended up just outside the village of Mosul — right in the thick of the most terrible hell any of us had ever witnessed.

Over the next five years, I followed the stories CNN sent me on, covering the effects of war from a very human perspective. I was no longer reporting from the front lines but from the destroyed villages, towns, and cities that had been ravaged by the militaries of both sides. Five years of that was five years too much. These days I stick to the humanitarian stories but cover a much more positive side of what humans are capable of in everyday life.

Today, I’m lucky enough to be interviewing one of my personal heroes. Misha Collins. I have to admit that I totally fanboyed when he walked into the room. Misha happens to have been the lead character, well one of two, in my favorite TV show ever: 'Hunter’s Life.' Dmitri (played by Misha) and Jason (played by Sebastian Roche) were the main characters, who were journalists, best friends, and hunters of supernatural beings. They travelled across the USA in a cool 1966 Shelby GT (black with gold racing stripes) to save people and rid the world of supernatural beasts from legends and folklore. But I digress. The interview today is about Misha Collins, the person. The man has done so much good in the world and has a seemingly magical way of bringing in the fans of his acting career to accomplish unbelievable acts of kindness. (You’ll have to read the article on my blog to find out more about the scope of the charitable actions of this man and his team of “Gnomes” as he jokingly refers to all the individuals who work and volunteer for his charitable organization. Links and information on the organization are available on my website.)

Now that I’ve introduced myself, I want to get to the real story. The story that begins my first day of kindergarten, although if you’re a follower of my blog, you know that’s not where we are going to start. We are starting with the annoying buzzing of my cell phone during one of the best interviews I’ve had the opportunity to conduct. A phone call that took me back home to Kansas; a discussion that shed light on the reality of a troubled history of a truly special person from my past. My own best friend, who I have known—or thought I knew—all my life.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is enough first-person perspective. Contained here are some behind the scenes happenings during the filming of the documentary.

Let me tell you the story of my friend Castiel.

**The Eyes of an Angel**

**By Dean Winchester**

_(Documentary managed by Bradbury and Assoc.)_

Dean is sitting in an interview that has taken him months to arrange, steadily ignoring the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. This particular interview is the proposal that he brought to his editor when he was pushing to get out of war-torn areas and back to the good ole US of A, to do more humanitarian and philanthropic stories about unsung heroes right here in our own backyard. And for the past two years, Dean has done just that. He has interviewed big stars, political figures, and unknown small-town heroes. He has traveled all across the lower forty-eight chasing stories about individuals doing good deeds. Dean is thrilled that he finally got his sit down, face-to-face interview with Misha Collins, actor, philanthropist, and family man, and his childhood TV hero. He also has a newly formed appreciation for the man’s ability to engage his fans in the act of selflessness and random acts of kindness while supporting charitable acts.

It doesn’t go unsaid during the interview that ‘Hunter’s Life’ was, and is, Dean’s favorite show and how much the premise of the backstory was his ultimate inspiration for his career choice in journalism. Unlike the boys on the show, however, Dean has never worked with a partner.  Misha, as Dean expected, is as kind and down to earth as rumor has it. The interview lasts just a few minutes over an hour, and Misha agrees to photos in and around his house, even bragging and posing with several of the items he built and some of his favorite fan-made art.

After packing up his camera equipment, recorder, and notebook; Dean bids farewell to Misha and his wife and kids. Those may be the cutest kids he’s ever met, excluding his nieces and nephew of course. Once he places his bags in the trunk, he settles into the driver's seat and checks his messages.

Two are from his manager, Charlie; he’ll read those when he has time to commit to putting forth the effort to discuss business. One is from his Uncle Bobby, just a quick hello and asking if Dean will be home for the holidays this year. Dean decides to reply to that one once he’s back at his hotel, he has a good three months before he has to commit. The other five are from Sam. Dean loves his brother, but sometimes the guy can't take a hint, like ‘If I’m not answering immediately, I’m busy working.’  He decides to go ahead and check the messages from Sam. Hopefully, nothing is wrong with one of the kids.

10:27_Moose> Hey Dean - I know you’re in Washington state right now on a job but there’s something happening back in KC that needs your attention.

10:43_Moose> Are you really busy or are you ignoring me?

11:16_Moose> hi unka dean i <3 u and klare dose to and jak do to but him at bassball

11:18_Moose> Sorry, Emma snuck off with my phone.

12:07_Moose> Call me.

Dean pockets his phone, waving at young West and Maison playing in the front yard of the Collins’ house, and drives to his hotel. There’s nothing that twenty minutes will make or break; he will call Sam once he’s in his room with his shoes off and a tiny bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Walking into the room, he kicks off his shoes, grabs an itty-bitty bottle of Jameson from the in-room refrigerator, and flops on the bed resting against the headboard with a couple of pillows behind him. He opens the last message from Sam and taps on the ‘call’ icon.

“Heddo!” a small voice answers Sam’s phone, Dean can hear his brother in the background huffing and pleading for the four-and-a-half-year-old to give him his phone.

“Hey, Emma girl! I love you, sweetheart. Can you please give Daddy his phone?”

“Hi, Unka Dean! I texted you! Did you getted my text?”

“Yes, I did pumpkin. Thank you for the sweet text. Will you please give Daddy the phone, now?”

“Daddy! Is Unka Dean! He calldid because I texted him a sweet text!” the child yells with the phone still at her face. Dean can hear her little feet as she runs on the hardwood floors.

“Hey, Dean. Finally got the squirt to give up my phone.”

“That girl is a real handful.” Dean laughs..

“Yeah, Mom says she is just like YOU. Jerk.”

“Whatever, _bitch_. Look I was in an interview this morning and couldn’t reply to your barrage of messages. So, now I’m calling. Fill me in, what’s happening that makes you think I need to hightail it back to KC?”

“You sitting down?”

“Yep.”

“Opened a bottle yet?”

“...yeah, a little sip of Jameson… why?”

“It’s Castiel. Man, he’s not been doing well. Like I told you, he’s been in and out of the hospital several times the past year and a half. Dean, this last time was almost his _last_. He still can’t hold a job, and lives in that assisted living duplex community up in the Armourdale district.”

“KC side or Missouri side?”

“Kansas side. I’ve seen him around a few times, and he seems to like hanging out in Shawnee Park.”

“I thought he was doing better last summer, had a job at the QuickMart, or whatever that gas station was called. What happened?”

“Yeah, he kept that job a while. Probably longer than most. He was doing pretty well until the place was robbed while he was at work. Dude, he tried to take the punk out and ended up in the hospital with a couple of broken ribs, broken arm, and knife wounds.”

“The FUCK, SAM! You never told me about that! What the hell?”

“You were in Key West at the time on that hurricane repair story.”

“Fuck. Goddammit, Sam. That was over a year ago!”

“... yeah, you’ve been busy, man. I didn’t want…”

“Didn’t want what? To tell me that the best friend I ever had growing up,  was nearly killed in a fuckin’ robbery? So, what? What is worse than him being stabbed and hospitalized? Why, _now_ , are you telling me I need to come home?”

“Will you please calm down? This is serious, and I don’t want to try telling you while you’re belligerently swearing at me.” Sam scolds Dean, and then mumbles as Dean continues to rant, “Best friend my ass.”

“Fuck. Give me half an hour, so I can shower and get a bite to eat. Don’t need to clear the mini bar on an empty stomach.”

“Okay. Get some food, and please don’t empty the mini bar.”

“I was joking. Now that I know it’s not a life-threatening urgency, that the kids are well and Cas is not playing vigilante again; I can get some food and call you back after I eat.”

Sam agrees to give his big brother time to fill his belly and relax for a bit.

After a hot shower with pretty decent water pressure; Dean changes into sweats and a well-worn, faded, stretched-out Mustang GT t-shirt. He pads, sock-footed, to the door when room service brings his late lunch; a cheeseburger, sweet potato fries, and apple pie for dessert, he also orders a six pack of beer - mainly because he didn’t want to leave his room again the rest of the day. Once Dean finishes his meal and sits the tray outside the door, he grabs his phone and settles back on the bed, this time with more pillows and a beer on the side table. First, he replies to Charlie’s messages, letting her know how well the interview went and when he expects to have it posted. He ignores the text from Bobby, knowing that he can call him later. He takes a deep breath thinking about what a poor example of a friend he has been to Cas over the years, there’s no real reason - other than selfish ones - that he hasn’t visited, calling a few times a year isn’t the way a best friend acts. He takes a chug of his beer and finally calls his brother.

They exchange a few pleasantries, and Sam informs him of Jack’s grades and sports adventures, Emma’s latest loose tooth, and Claire’s newest words. He shares greetings from Jessica and reminds Dean that their parents are hoping for a big family gathering this Christmas, which includes Dean.

Dean grumbles and reviews his calendar, knowing that he doesn’t have anything scheduled for December, but it’s been three years since he was back in Kansas and almost five years before that. It just feels strange being in Kansas City when his childhood home is Lebanon, but there isn’t any family left back there, with his folks in Lawrence and Sam in the KC suburbs. Even his uncle and his family are Linwood (between Lawrence and KC). Home to Dean, now, is his apartment in New Rochelle, New York. The nightlife is excellent, NYC is practically in his backyard—if he had a backyard. The dating pool is pretty freakin’ amazing. Come to think of it; he doesn’t remember finding one gay bar in Lawrence last time he was there. Yep, that’s the other reason he never looks forward to heading back to the white-bread world of the Midwest. Out of all the places he has traveled, it still amazes him how unkind people can be toward those who are different from the mainstream. Somehow, when one is ankle deep in death and huddled down to protect oneself, and the person next to you from flying debris, race, religion, and sexual preferences don’t seem all that important. But, be the wrong color, wrong religion, or a little too pretty for a _real_ man in the peaceful suburbs of America and you’re likely to be arrested, bashed or killed.

Dean finally relents and tells his nag of a younger brother that he will do his best to be home for the holidays. This seems to please the man, and he goes on for a few minutes about how he will be telling _everyone_ the good news.

“So, I didn’t really call to talk about Christmas Vacation. I think it's time that you tell me what’s happening with Cas. I’ve called him a few times, and he sounded fine, confused at times, but he’s always been a little spacy.”

Sam chuckles, “Yeah, no doubt, but after you went to college, he was even more odd than usual. You know, we still hung out a lot, until I went off to college. We picked up again any time I came home for school breaks - which of course, you never did, other than Christmas. Dude, that’s still a sore topic at the 4th of July picnic. But Cas always seems to be ageless, running on his own timeline, ya know.”

“I know. Cas could be the wise old owl or the fun-loving instigator; we always had a good time. All through school.” Dean takes a drink of beer. ‘ _And he always had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen_ . _My blue-eyed angel._ ’ He thinks and luckily doesn’t blurt out to his nosey brother.

“I thought you two were going to date or something the way he was always spending the night at the old house. And the way y’all were always up in the treehouse and keeping me out.  But I guess y’all were just best buds, huh.”

Dean hesitates, taking another sip of his beer and remembering his teen years with Cas. All the sleepovers that started way back in elementary school. The treehouse they build the summer before sixth grade, and still slept in over summer breaks through senior year. The place where they first kissed and gave each other their first hand jobs — the place Dean lost his virginity to Benny his junior year. The place he and Cas never had sex, but sure did a lot of making out.

“Um, what? Yeah, we never dated. Cas wasn’t even allowed to date before his eighteenth birthday; you remember how weird his parents were.”

“Awe man! I knew it! You guys hooked up, didn't you?”

“Can we get back to the present and the current issue with Castiel? You need to tell me what’s going on with him, or I swear I’ll come home for Christmas just so I can put Nair in your shampoo _and_ body wash!”

“Jesus, fine.”

Sam proceeds to hit him with a reality that shakes him up more than any war zone ever has, and Dean is completely blown away by the information revealed by his brother about his best friend. He knew Cas had had an unusual childhood; his parents were extremely religious and overly strict. Cas always seemed like a perfectly happy child, and of course, made good grades all through school. Dean knew that Cas’s parents used corporal punishment as well as groundings, and loss of his already limited privileges or belongings.  Whereas Dean’s parents leaned more toward grounding and restricting privileges, but the rules in Dean’s house were quite lax compared to those of Castiel’s. Dean had only been to Cas’s house once, and that turned out to be one time too many. Cas’s mother had yelled at him for walking into the house with his shoes on and told him to leave. Cas told him at school the following Monday that he had to clean the carpet in the hall and living room over the weekend, using a scrub brush and carpet cleaner.

Dean refocused on what Sam was telling him about the latest information on Cas. Not only has he been hospitalized several times for suspicious injuries over the past few years, but he is also going to AA/NA meetings, Cas swears to Sam that he doesn’t drink yet he’s been arrested for public intoxication a few times. Sam reveals how the most recent hospital stay was for an overdose, and that it wasn’t Cas’s first.

“Dean, as bad as all that sounds, the scariest thing I’ve learned is that Cas was officially diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Several years ago.”

“Multiple Personalities? Are you serious?” Dean almost drops his phone as he grabs his laptop and opens the travel app.

“Dean?”

“Sorry, almost dropped my phone. I’m checking for flights.”

“Like right now? Dude, it’s August. I figured you might plan to come to check on him next week or something.”

“Yes, right now! If you had told me how serious his condition was, I would have been there last YEAR!  I’m going to need to call Charlie and let her know that I’m changing my plans. I still have to complete the story for the interview I did today, but I can do that on the plane and finish it up at the hotel when I get there.”

“You don’t want to stay at mine?” Sam cuts off Dean’s obsessive list making.

“I love you, man, and your family, but I can’t work at your house. Besides, I have an angle, so this will all be charged to the business account.”

Dean completes his first draft and gets it sent to his editor before his flight the following day. He hopes to have the edits back in less than forty-eight hours, so he can finalize and get the story posted and be done by the end of a week so that he can focus on his friend-in-need.

During his wait time before his flight, Dean does some research on DID. There is a lot of inconsistent information, conflicting views, and his early research is frustrating and discouraging. He makes a list of so-called authorities on the subject to contact. His primary focus is to begin by understanding the diagnosis and the disorder; then he plans to speak to doctors and find other avenues of knowledge to interview.

On the plane ride, Dean reminisces about his school years and his best friend.

Dean picked Castiel out of all the children in the pre-school, maybe it was because he wanted to play with the Lincoln Logs, but the two boys got along famously from their first meeting. They always shared and never fought over toys.

Through elementary school, they enjoyed everything at school, from recess to lunch, to library time. As they got older, subjects got more difficult, and Cas turned out to be the numbers guy, always there to help Dean with his math homework. Dean had a way with words and worked with Cas in keeping the letters from getting jumbled, showing him different ways to look at the page in attempts to see the words as patterns which helped Cas with his reading.

When the school counselor diagnosed Cas with dyslexia, the other kids found it to be one more reason to pick on the kid. Castiel’s parents, however, refused to accept the diagnosis and hired a tutor to work with Cas on his reading and added extra English lessons. None of the tutoring helped, which pissed his dad off, claiming that Castiel failed on purpose and cost them an unnecessary expense. Castiel’s father took his library card was away, with the explanation that an illiterate moron did not need to visit the library.  Castiel was twelve at the time. Dean always checked out an extra book for Cas. Maybe it was an early-reader level when Dean was reading at a high school level, but Dean knew that Cas could read, he just had trouble.

When the boys were fifteen, Dean told Cas that he thought he was pretty and that looking into his blue eyes made his wiener feel funny.  They laughed about how their wieners were different than they used to be when they were little, and Dean admitted that girls didn’t make him feel funny down there like boys, and especially Cas did. Dean asked Cas if he could try kissing him and Cas agreed. It wasn’t like in the movies, but Dean really liked kissing Cas, and Cas didn’t think kissing Dean was too bad either. Although Cas said his wiener didn’t feel anything, he still enjoyed it.

By the time they were juniors in high school, they had done a lot of kissing up in their treehouse. Dean showed Cas what his dick did when they kissed, and Cas was amazed. Dean asked if Cas wanted to try and see if something more than kissing might make him feel something down there and Cas thought that was a great idea if it would make his dick look like Dean’s. That was the first time that Dean gave someone else a hand job, and from Cas’s reaction, he did a good job at it. A few weeks later Dean sucked Cas off just to see if it was as great as the older boys talked about in the locker room. Although none of those boys were doing the sucking, they were the suckee in the process; but Dean wasn’t about to ask Cas to do that if it turned out to be really gross or something. Cas raved over the blowjob and told Dean he had to see what it was like, so he jumped right in and sucked Dean off, swallowing every drop.

They still didn’t act coupley or try to date, that was all saved for their time in the treehouse. Dean and Cas knew of one kid that the older boys called a _faggot_ , and he had been hospitalized after a bashing by several members of the football team. There was no way they would admit to anything more than being best friends.  Cas warned Dean that homosexuality was a sin and that his dad would do worse than the football team if he thought Cas had any interest in boys, he wasn’t even allowed to date girls until he turned eighteen. Cas turned seventeen in September, and Dean followed in January.

One Saturday afternoon, they took Dean’s pocket knife up to the treehouse and cut tiny slits on their forearm’s and swore that they would always be blood brothers and that they had a special bond that surpassed gender and sexuality of any kind. They made out and slept close to each other in the treehouse that night.

Over spring break, Dean and Cas were sharing a pizza in the treehouse, and Dean asked if they could try doing some more sexy stuff, like the real sex stuff. Cas got upset and puked his pizza out the window, barely missing Sam who was chasing the dog around the backyard. Dean took that as a no, and never again asked to do more than bj’s and making out.

The following Saturday night, the end of spring break, their mutual friend Benny came over to play nerf war with Dean, Cas and Sam. Dean thought he would be smart and hide out in the treehouse to get a good shot on Benny or Sam, since he and Cas were always on the same team. The next thing he knew Benny had captured their flag and was climbing the rope into the treehouse to gloat and show off. Cas had sprayed him with the water hose, and Benny was soaked, so he took off his shirt and flung it at Dean. This was what caused Dean to tackle Benny and try to pin him down, but Benny outweighed him and was a lot stronger (being on the wrestling and football teams). Dean played baseball, but he was still no match for the wrestling MVP. It didn’t take Benny five seconds to get Dean flat on his back. Suddenly they both stopped laughing, and Benny leaned down and kissed Dean. Of course, Dean spat and sputtered, kicking and squirming to get Benny off. Dean had never kissed anyone besides Cas; there was no way this big galoot was going to spread rumors and get Dean beat up by the jocks. But Benny, smirked and leaned down and captured Dean’s lips again, more forcefully… and Dean liked it.

Cas had to go home before it got dark, he was required to attend church, and there was never an exception for that. They went to Dean’s room to get Cas a change of clothes, so he wasn’t going home dirty. He always changed into some of Dean’s clothes when they played any outdoor sports. Dean made sure that his door was locked and grabbed Cas while he still had his shirt off, pulling him close and kissing him, licking his way past those pouty pink lips. Cas finally pulled away and headed for home.

Benny was still chilling in the treehouse when Dean went back out. Dean climbed the rope, and Benny grinned at Dean’s semi-hard cock. Benny promised not to tell if Dean would do the same. Dean realized that Benny had been rummaging around up here because he found the lube that Dean and Cas use for hand jobs. Benny knew how to talk dirty, and his big hands felt nice on Dean’s dick, and oh… wow. Benny’s fingers were a lot thicker than Dean’s own. Benny fingered Dean; it’s the first time Dean felt anyone other than his own fingers back there. He liked it, a lot. Benny was a strong guy, but he remained gentle with Dean, knowing it was his first time.

Benny was true to his word and never told anyone about what they did that Saturday night up in the treehouse. But he also stopped hanging out with Dean and the boys. Benny wouldn’t even talk to him at school unless it was in class or about an assignment. Benny took Andrea to junior prom. Dean didn’t go to prom.

Dean never brought it up to Cas, they still continued their secret relationship, and nothing in their little world changed. Except now Dean knew how it felt to have sex and wanted it again.

After graduation, Cas cried and begged Dean not to go to college so far away. Cas was going to Cloud County Community College in Concordia, because his parents decided he wouldn’t need a university level education, and because it was only about fifty miles from Lebanon. But, Dean had been accepted to Yale, and it had always been his dream.

Cas even offered sex if Dean would take him with him to Connecticut. Dean held Cas and helped him calm down, that night they slept together in Dean’s bed, pajamas on, of course, Dean wasn’t a jerk. Dean, the big spoon, and Cas snuggled in as close as physically possible.

Dean left a week later. He went home that year for Christmas, but Cas was sick and wasn’t able to hang out at all the entire time Dean was home. Dean didn’t go back home for any school breaks. He did write, and email, and call reasonably regularly. Then he got a job in New York, and the excitement of life in the big apple helped him forget about missing home.

Dean walks down the gangway feeling nervous and on the verge of depression. He keeps his sunglasses and baseball cap on as he makes his way to the baggage claim. Just as he steps onto the escalator down to the open waiting area between security and baggage claim, he hears a particularly high-pitched squeal that he would recognize anywhere, that along with the “Wait, wait, wait.” coming from his brother.

“Unka Dean! Unka Dean!” Emma screams loud enough for people in all parts of the arrivals/departure area to turn and look. Dean raises a hand and waves at his favorite niece. Well, Claire isn’t even two, yet so he has yet to learn her personality.

“EMMA!” Dean yells back nearly as loud. Sam finally lets her go once Dean reaches the bottom of the escalator and she leaps into Dean’s arms, non-stop babbling about things that Dean has no idea how to respond to, so he just smiles and nods along.

Jessica hugs him and holds Claire up for a kiss. Jack shuffles over and gives Dean a side hug, which Dean can’t allow and grabs the boy with his free arm and squeezes him, shaking him until the pre-teen breaks and laughs.

“Jesus, Jack! I think you’re going to be as tall as your dad! You’ve had a growth spurt or two since I saw you last.” Jack just shrugs his shoulders. Dean knows he doesn’t deserve much more from the kid; it’s been two years since they all met up in Arizona, when he paid for them to all vacation at the Grand Canyon. Wow, Jessica was pregnant with Claire at the time. Dean feels a pang of guilt at the thought. He’s only seen his youngest niece in person the week she was born, everything else has been video calls or videos Sam or Jessica sent him.

The family piles into the Winchester Minivan and stop by Dean’s hotel before going out for dinner. Dean has to admit that he misses his family, the kids aren’t even obnoxious in the restaurant. Sam and Jessica are great parents. Dean promises the kids that he will spend the weekend with them, and not on his laptop or phone. That gives him a couple of days for research and calls.  

Dean starts his research by speaking with Cas’s psychiatrist and physician. Using his press pass and the double-edged sword of doing a documentary and being Cas’s longtime friend, he can get a few doors opened that might have been difficult otherwise. He’s sure to have everyone he speaks with sign a waiver and notes those who refuse or prefer to be uncredited and unnamed in the story. He films everything he legally can, recording each interview and phone call - of course only after the other party acknowledges. He learns so much about Castiel that he never knew, even during the years that they were camping out in the treehouse and playing board games or making out.

The psychiatrist warns him about Castiel’s mood swings and how Dean may not know if he’s actually speaking with Cas or one of his alternates.

“One of?” Dean asks, surprised at the fact that there is more than one alternate living within Cas.

“Yes, I’ve met four. Jimmy, Anna, David, and Shablon - whom I’ve only met once, and he was not pleasant to speak with, and difficult to understand as he has a thick Russian accent.”

“Whoa, wait, Doc. You’re telling me that one of Cas’s personalities is Russian?”

“Yes, Shablon (The doctor writes ‘шаблон’ on Dean’s notepad) means Master. Shablon appears to be the strongest yet quietest of the alternates. I’m not sure Cas knows of him. But he is aware of Anna, David, and Jimmy. Much in the same way that they know about each other. Cas is mindful of his alternates and may speak with you about them as he would other people.”

“You know, now that I think about it, that does make a little bit of sense. Cas’s Grandmother on his Mother’s side was Russian. But I didn’t think his Father let him spend much time with her. So, what brings out the different, um the alternates? Is he triggered or something?”

“No, not always although a trigger can be a cause. You will notice a slight facial change and sometimes rapid blinking, usually when Castiel returns to himself. Then there is the change in his voice, his body movements, and other traits. Each alternate is unique.”

“You have given me a lot to think about and watch for when I finally meet with Cas.”

“When will you be meeting up with him?”

“Monday afternoon. I’m a little nervous, but I’m also extremely excited to see my old friend.”

Dean spends the weekend, as promised, with Jack and Emma. On Saturday, they eat too much pizza and ice cream and spend an obscene amount of money playing arcade games. Saturday night, he and Jack go see the new Avengers movie, and on Sunday he takes Claire to the biggest toy store he has ever seen.  Then they spend the afternoon at the park, having a picnic lunch and flying Jack’s drone, taking hilarious birds-eye-view videos over the park. He even spends Sunday morning, before the toy store experience, on the phone with his parents. Dean figures it was a perfect weekend, exactly what he needed to relax and center himself before confronting his friend armed with all the new knowledge he has gathered over the past few days.

 

Dean spends the morning preparing his kit. Camera, extra memory cards and batteries, his three favorite lenses, his prime 35mm, 50mm portrait, and the 70-200mm. He likes to be ready for any photo opportunity that comes up, and his quick changes lenses do the trick. Video camera, also with extra memory cards and batteries. Digital recorder, notepad, and pens. He’s also taking his laptop, so he can download, review, and edit on the spot. Dean reviews his notes from the psychiatrist and from his interviews from others who have been a part of Cas’s life the past few years, he also checks over his list of people and places he wants to talk with Cas about. Basically, he’s done all he can do other than confronting Castiel in person.

Walking from the parking lot to the coffee shop across the street from the little park in Castiel’s neighborhood, Dean feels ridiculously nervous at the thought of seeing the person who was once his best friend and practically his soul mate for over half his life.

The bell above the door jingles when Dean pushes through. He glances around the shop, noticing the natural comfort of the clientele and workers. There are a couple of people in line, so Dean follows suit and queues for a cuppa. He keeps his eyes open for Cas to arrive. Coffee in hand, Dean finds a table and settles his backpack in the chair next to him, taking out his notepad to do a bit of review if his notes while he waits for Cas to show up.  Dean is rooted in his thoughts when the doorbell jingles, but when he looks up, he doesn’t see anyone new in the room and assumes someone must have left and returns his attention to his notes.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean jumps from his seat, turning around to face the person he knows to whom that voice to belongs.

“Cas!” Dean moves to hug Castiel but pauses, a feeling of insecurity overcomes him, he has been told so many things about what Cas is going through, but this is the first time he has seen him in almost eight years. What if Cas no longer considers Dean, a friend? Or if physical contact is the wrong thing to do?

Castiel smiles and completes the motion, wrapping his arms around Dean, one over his shoulder and the other around his waist. A friendly hug, a tight hug, a perfect hug. All of Dean’s insecurities fall away. This _IS_ Castiel.

The two friends sit and enjoy a fresh cup of coffee together while Dean explains his idea of documenting their future conversations and interviews with the list of individuals which he shares with Cas. Dean shares with Cas all the information that he has been given already, and Cas doesn’t seem bothered one bit that Dean is discussing his diagnoses so openly. He even corrects him on a few dates and spellings and other minor items. Dean is amazed at how quickly they fall back into their natural mannerisms, almost as if they hadn’t been apart the past eight-plus years. Although, there are a few differences in Cas that Dean was picking up on; signs of unease and wariness in his glances, a slight tremor in his hands, a general tiredness, and when they got up to leave, he notices a slight limp.

They walk together to the park and chat about Cas’s love of nature and how he enjoys sitting in the park and watching the birds, squirrels and other city wildlife.

Cas points toward the swings and tugs on Dean’s jacket sleeve. “Can we go swing, please?” He says in a small, childish voice. Dean is momentarily startled by the quick change in Cas.

“Hi,” Dean looks in Cas’s eyes, “What’s your name?”

“My name is Jimmy,” The high-pitched, childlike voice answers with a giggle, “Will you push me on the swings, please? I like to swing.”

“Of course, I will, Jimmy.” Dean gets him going on a swing and takes the one next to him, swinging low and watching as Jimmy has a roaring good time.

Jimmy laughs and smiles at Dean. “I know you.” Jimmy says, “Dean Winchester. You’re my friend. We’re friends.”

Dean grins at the innocents of Jimmy, “Do you mind if I video you, Jimmy?”

“You can video me. Watch me go higher! Video me swinging really really high!”

Dean grabs his camera and sets it up on the tripod so that he can capture the whole scene.

“Tell me more about what you like, Jimmy. Careful, don’t go too high. I don’t want you to fall.” Dean attempts to slow the man/child to keep him safe as well as to keep him in frame.

“I like watching my DVDs of “Hunter’s Life” and playing with my cars. You gotta see all my cars! I like my teddy and, and, and I can jump real far off the swing! Watch me!”

Before Dean has a chance to react, Cas- or Jimmy - jumps from the swing, right at the top of the upswing. The look of fear and regret are apparent on his face as soon as he lets go, he lands hard and tumbles down onto his hands and knees. Dean runs to him; Jimmy is crying and holding his leg.

“Cas! Um- Jimmy! Are you okay? Are you bleeding? Let me see.” Dean manages to move the man’s hands and lift the leg of his jeans to find only a red mark where he landed. He checks his hands and deems playtime over, so they can go wash the dirt from his scratches. Jimmy nods and sniffles, giving the swing a nasty glare as if it were the entire reason he was hurt. They go to the nearby drinking fountain, and Dean pushes up Cas’s sleeves so he can rinse his hands. That’s the first time he sees the scars, several along both forearms.

“Anna, or maybe David, did that.” It’s not Jimmy’s voice; it’s Cas’s. He pulls his sleeves down and wipes his hands dry on his jeans.  “Jimmy jumped from the swing again didn’t he? I could hear little Jimmy in my head.” Cas smiles a sad smile.

Dean rubs a hand up and down Cas’s arm, “How about we head to your house?” Cas agrees, and Dean grabs his bag and continues filming Cas as they walk to his duplex.

“Jimmy is a sweet little boy, how old is he?” Dean asks.

“He’s six. I don’t mind Jimmy; he never really causes any trouble. He’s a nice little boy, and really likes toys and movies. So, I want to apologize now for the state of my place.”

“Hey, Cas, it’s all good.”

Cas wasn’t kidding; his bedroom is quite crowded with stuffed animals and posters from ‘Hunter’s Life’ and other favorite shows from the past and present. He has boxes of matchbox cars, and Legos, and models, and board games. In the living room, he has loads of DVDs and video games stacked on shelves below and either side of the TV. The apartment is tidy, though it looks like a home with children instead of that of a single adult male.

Cas grabs one of the controllers and sits on the floor in front of the couch, starting a game as if Dean wasn’t even present.

“Do you want a second player?” Dean asks.

“No. This is a one player game. I had to stop so Cas could meet you. I want to finish. It’s only fair that I get to finish now” This is a different voice, it’s not Jimmy, nor Cas.

“David?” Dean inquires.

“What? You don’t want me to play, right.” He flops his head back against the couch and drops his shoulders in a pout. “Jimmy gets to play all the time, but I don’t get to finish one level.”

“David? Could you tell me a little about what you like to do, besides video games?”

David huffs, as only a teen can, and stares at Dean for a moment. The whole attitude reminds Dean of Cas as a teenager. He gives a small smile at the memories of Cas pushing the rules and limits of everything when they were in high school.

“Come on, man, talk to me.”

“You filmin’? Make sure you get my good side.” David smirks and tosses the controller over by the TV stand. “Alright, fine, God…” David rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Cas is too shy to do stuff, so I help. I’m not afraid to talk to shop clerks or bus drivers or anybody. I’m not afraid of any… well, not scared of the people we have to deal with to get shit done. I don’t like the Russian, and Anna’s a bitch.”

“Have you met the Russian?”

“Um, no.” David clenches his hands together and looks down, drawing his legs up criss-cross style.

“I could show you my new Legos.” Jimmy butts in. “It’s a new Star Wars fighter.”

“Perhaps later, Jimmy. Did I frighten David away?”

Jimmy stares at Dean, blinking, confused, then looks around, sees the TV on and gives a small smile to Dean.

“Uh, hi.” Cas says, “I kinda lost a little chunk of time there.”

“David came out for a visit. Then Jimmy wanted to show me his new Legos.” Dean brings Cas up to speed.

“Oh,” he huffs out a laugh, “Sorry, I …”

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to me. For anything.”

Dean stays in town and documents his interactions with Cas and the others for three weeks before he meets Anna.

He has gotten to know Jimmy and enjoys the time that he has with the sweet little boy. Jimmy is very like Cas when they were young children. Outspoken, happy and fun loving. Jimmy loves cuddles and giggles at silly things; he also has bouts of crying and gets very quiet and sad. Dean hates to see Jimmy sad.

“Hey, Jimmy. You alright buddy?”

“Thomas the Teddy is sad.” Jimmy hugs the stuffed bear.

“How can you make him happy again?”

Jimmy grins, eyes full of mischief, “Tickle him!” He giggles and tickles the teddy bear. Jimmy gets up from his bed and grabs an oversized blow-up Kansas City Royals baseball bat. “This is for if I feel angry.” He hits the wall several times with the bat.

“Do you feel angry often?”

“Sometimes, when I think about bad things.” He tosses the bat to the other side of the bed. “Wooo! _PWWUCCCHHHHHHH!”_ Jimmy acts out the explosion, raising his hands and flaring out his fingers. Then he falls on the bed laughing.

Dean realizes that Jimmy never focuses on ‘bad things’ for very long.

“God, Jimmy makes such a mess.” Cas sighs, and sits up on the bed.

“Yeah, but he’s freakin’ amazing.” Dean offers a hand to help Cas off the bed.

Cas takes the pre-offered hand and stands up, looking at the toys scattered in the room for a moment. He puts his hands on his hips, and his face falls into a grimace. “Goddammit! I just cleaned up in here!”

Dean balks at the angry shout, and new voice; and Cas doesn’t look happy at all, his face reminds Dean of the way his mom looked when the kids made a mess in her clean kitchen.

“It was Jimmy, wasn’t it? Cas lets him get away with everything.”

Dean watches and continues filming, as not-Cas waves his hands at the state of disarray in the room, complains about ‘the boys’ and tidies the room. He follows the alter, possibly Anna, out of the bedroom through the living room into the kitchen.

“Oh my God! Am I the only one who can wash a damn dish?”

“I’m sorry… Anna?. One of those glasses is mine. May I help you clean this up?”

“You’re Dean, right? You’re the one doing all the filming and interviews?” The voice is much calmer and sounds soft and feminine. “Thank you; it would be nice to have some help.”

Dean arranges his camera so that it's on top of the refrigerator and can capture the room as they work together to wash the few dishes in the sink. He asks Anna questions, and she snips a few short answers. Once the dishes are put away, she seems to be calmer and sits at the kitchen table.

“Nobody likes me,” Anna says, looking out the window. “I do bad things sometimes. I do what it takes… to alleviate the pain.” Anna blinks and turns to face Dean.

“Crap.” It’s Cas. He looks around the room. “I was going to do those dishes after you left.”

“Anna came out to clean up Jimmy’s mess,” Dean tells him.

“So, you met Anna?” He bites his lip and tugs at his sleeves. “I used to think she wanted to protect me, but I think she’s the one that does this. He pulls up his sleeves and shows the scars up and down his arms. “Usually, she doesn’t cut too deep, but there have been a few times… I’m not sure if she’s the one that takes the pills and drinks. Dean, I swear I stopped buying alcohol or sneaking out to drink.” He laughs. “Remember when we were kids, and I’d sneak out with water bottles filled with my dad’s booze? God, you were such a lightweight.”

“Haha, funny man. I was like twelve. And I got grounded after puking in the living room when I got home that night.” Dean shares in the laughter, remembering the good times and the trouble they got into.

Cas pulls a Rubbermaid box off the chair opposite Dean. “I need to refill my daily meds cases. Figured you want this on your documentary.” he nods toward the camera. Dean agrees and motions for him to proceed.

“This one is Prozac; I’m on the highest dose, 60m.  Diazepam, or valium, ya know it helps keep me calm, on an even keel so to speak. Olanzapine it's an antipsychotic, Zopiclone to help me sleep at night …  Imitrex is for migraines. Many of the meds make my stomach upset so this is Promethazine to keep me from getting nauseous. I don’t let them give me the opioids anymore. That was just too easy for someone to OD.” Cas packs the little sections of his weekly meds container as he explains the different medications. He is very matter of fact about them all. This is his life, his ‘normal.’ “I’ve been in the hospital, um….” he casts his eyes up and to the right as he thinks, “eight times because of overdoses. Four times because of cuts and injuries that caused me to bleed excessively. And two years ago, I broke my leg; it was a biking accident… there was alcohol involved.”

Cas puts away the box of medicines and places the weekly dispenser in the center of the table. It’s rather large and divided into separate day boxes with three sections each, morning, noon, and night. Cas has packed the pills accordingly. He tidies the salt and pepper shakers and vase of fake flowers around the box. Then he cups his hands under his chin, leaning elbows-on-table and looks at Dean, his face is neutral, but there is a smile behind his eyes.

“So, this is your job? You really did become an honest-to-goodness journalist. I used to watch those CNN stories, God, I don’t know how you survived being in some of those places.”

“It was pretty bad, sometimes. But the people I was able to meet and bring attention to their plight. I like to think that I was part of the machine that ultimately helped them.  Oh! If you promise to keep it a secret, I can let you in on my latest story.”

“Do tell.” Cas grinned in anticipation.

“You’re gonna love this. I’ve already asked for a special DVD to be made with all the outtakes, just for you.” Dean draws out the suspense and Cas’s eyes go wide.

“Dean, just tell me.”

“Misha Collins. Dude. I finally got my interview with the man himself! I think I can die happy, now.”

“Whoa! That’s been your dream for,like, forever!” Cas leans across the corner of the table and hugs Dean. “I’m so happy for you.”

Cas, maybe not Cas, gets up and settles himself across Dean’s lap. “I want to watch a movie. Will you stay and watch a movie with me?” It’s Jimmy.

“I will if you get off my lap. I can hardly walk to the living room with you on top of me.”

Jimmy jumps up and grabs Dean’s hand, tugging him to the couch and setting him where he wants him. Then he puts in a DVD. It’s a children’s animation about talking trains that Dean thinks he remembers.

Dean quietly sneaks off to rearrange his camera so that he can continue to film Jimmy. He snaps a few photos and spends the length of the short film watching the child—in a man’s body—react to the happenings on the screen. He is clutching a small blanket and chewing the corner. Dean remembers Cas doing the same thing when they were in kindergarten.

 

he following week, Dean decides to show Cas some of the videos he has captured. He watches Cas’s reactions as he sees himself switch between alternates. He smiles at some of the stunts Jimmy carries out on the playground and with his toys at home. And he is not happy when he sees Jimmy fall off the jungle gym.

“I was intoxicated there, and yet, I don’t drink. So, one of the alters must have been drinking… That annoys me. It’s worrying seeing that, because I could walk out in front of a car or a bus.”

For the remainder of the week, Dean works on cutting together some of the better shots and adding a bit of narration to the documentary. Cas had loaned him his dairies that he’s kept since his junior year in high school; back when their English teacher gave each of the students a diary and told them to journal their year and write a paper on it at the end of the year. Dean had thought it was the best assignment in the world since he was already sniffing at the idea of journalism. Cas agreed to do the homework but complained about his right to privacy being attacked by ‘Big Government’ and how the education system was a tool of Nationalism and children were being prepped to be soldiers in an unholy war. Now that he thinks back on the strong attitude Cas showed back then, perhaps that was Anna raising her head all those years ago.

Dean reviews the diaries. Seeing how the different personalities began journaling along with Cas after he graduated and entered college. They all had completely different handwriting, and it turns out that Anna is left handed.

He gets a call the following Tuesday from Cas, and heads to the hospital to pick Cas up once he is released. One of his alters had cut his arms. It saddened Dean that Cas seemed to have no control over the more troubled personalities. Like Anna and David, who both seem to be avoiding speaking with Dean. Recently it’s only been Jimmy who comes out when Dean is with Cas.

“So, the drinking, that was David?” Dean asked once they were settled in Cas’s living room.

“Yeah, I don’t know why he keeps doing that.”

“And the cutting, was that David as well?”

“Possibly, or Anna. I’m not sure. No one’s confessed.” Cas smiles and laughs. It's better than crying. Cas seems to have a pretty good attitude toward this whole situation.

As he’s smiling his stare becomes somewhat blank. And then. “Hi, Dean!” The small voice of Jimmy greets.

“Hi, Jimmy. How are you?”

“I’m alright.” He looks around. “I’m back home!”

“Yeah, you are. Nice huh.”

“Yeah. You wanna see my bird... Are you filming?” Jimmy smiles and sucks on a fingertip, then gets up to play with a weird looking chicken string-puppet.

Later that evening, Cas finally gets to sit down and talk to Dean.

“I don’t go out and buy razor blades to cut my arms. That’s some other part of me, and they must hide them somewhere, but I never find them.” He gets up and digs around in the drawers while Dean films him. He looks all over the house. “It’s very rare that I’ve ever found anything. I use an electric razor to shave with, so I don’t even buy any disposable razors for that.” He continues going through trash cans, cabinets, and small storage boxes as well as drawers. “Shit!” He calls out when he finds a half empty fifth of Evan Williams. He storms into the kitchen—Dean hot on his heels—and pours the remainder down the drain.

“Dean, I didn’t buy that. I haven’t drunk, knowingly, for over eighteen months.” Cas sinks down on the couch, his elbows on his knees, head bowed and hands hanging between his legs.

“Cas, do you know why your alters drink or harm you? You mentioned before that the alters had first appeared to protect you.”

“You know I was abused as a child, right? That’s when the alternates began to show up.”

Dean nods in agreement.

“Not just typical corporal punishments or things like cleaning the garage floor with bleach and a scrub brush. Like the really wrong kind of stuff that nobody talks about because it’s just too fucked up to be reality. My parents were religious zealots, and I’m not even sure what the hell kind of church they attended. All I knew was that their god didn’t seem to like me very much and I was punished for practically everything I did. Would you believe that I was whipped with an extension cord because I wound it wrong? There was this special way that my dad wanted it coiled, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get it done right. I still haven’t figured out how he used to wrap that damn thing.” Cas lifts the back of his shirt and tugs down the waistband of his jeans, twisting around to show Dean a scar right on the top of the meat of his ass. “That’s where the prongs from the plug cut me.”

“Cas, you never said anything. I knew it was pretty awful at your house, but I had no idea how bad it really was.”

“There was nothing you could have done. I coped with it by blocking it out. That’s why you never knew about it; even I didn’t know about it. What I did was to create different personas when I was being abused so I could wake up as Castiel the next morning and not remember what happened to me. I carried on doing that over the years as the abuse continued and escalated. That’s where the multiple personalities come in.”

After this discussion with Cas, David appeared, and Dean was shocked by what he had to say after he admitted to being the one to cut Cas.

“David, why do you do it?”

“Because it’s easier to feel physical pain than emotional pain.”

“What do you think Cas thinks about this?”

“I think he understands, but he doesn’t like the fact that his arms are being cut to shreds.”

Dean shows David the diary with his entry.

 _Dear Cas, It was me, it was either that or take the pills. I cut because I hurt inside, and I felt desperate I’m scared if I say what happened, people will think I’m evil_.

“Yeah, I wrote that. In … what we call the team, we all have our roles. And part of my role is to find a sense of escapism. I have learned not to do it dangerously now. It used to be pills; it used to be alcohol and drugs and stuff. Um… um, sorry, I can hear Jimmy in my head.”

“What’s he saying?” Dean asks quietly.

“He says to tell you hello.”

 

Dean spends the next few days interviewing psychologists who work with cases involving DID and patients who have no memory of the possibly ritualistic abuse that they believe to have survived. He has spent enough time with Cas’s alters reacts when memories pop up, and how his alters speak about things from which they say they protected him.

Dean asks Cas about this, how it was when he first sensed that something awful might have happened to him.

“I hurt a lot inside. I didn’t have fully fledged memories but like flashbacks of something that was not very pleasant. It was almost like a movie playing in my mind, and the random frames would flash past, and I couldn’t piece anything together. At first, I was diagnosed schizophrenic, I was losing chunks of time. Then gradually more um... little people came out.”

Dean smiles at his choice of description.

Cas chuckles, “Yes, little people. I basically thought I was going crazy. First Jimmy came out and would use sticks and pretend to shoot everyone, running and playing or just sitting and crying if he couldn’t go out and play. Then Anna, and I didn’t understand why I could hear a girl talking in my head. She was angry and would shout at people. Cursing the clerk at the shop or yelling at a waitress if things weren’t just right.” Cas blanks out and stares at Dean. Dean knows that someone else is emerging, he’s seen that look before.

“Hello? You’re back?” This is the voice of Anna.

“Hello Anna, yes. Cas and I were doing an interview.”

“I heard my name. What was he saying about me?”

“Well, he thinks you’re a bit on the angry side, you seem feisty. You know, David was telling me about the different roles of the team.  And Cas and I were just talking about how he doesn’t remember much from when he was younger. What are your thoughts?”

“Feisty.” Anna smirks, then it drops to a frown. “I remember so many bad things. I remember when I was fifteen, and my abuser was having sex with me, and I was bleeding. He…” Anna looks away. “Sorry, this is not easy to talk about. He would catch the blood and his semen in a cup and made me drink it.”

Dean has to grit his teeth to keep from reacting. He shows Anna a page from one of the diaries.

 _I feel bashed about; I’m remembering some horrible things. And I hurt because I feel robbed of everything. I feel bad and dirty, my innocence and trust have been stolen from me, as well as my body… which I hate anyway, it feels contaminated. All I ever wanted to be was a normal child, not one that lives in a prison that has to always be on guard.  ~ Anna_.

“Anna, is that what this entry is about? The rapes? And,” Dean gulps, not wanting to say the word, “torture.”

Dean opens another diary and shows Anna the entry. Anna, may I please speak with Cas. I know he wants to talk to me.  

Anna gets up and goes to the bathroom. Dean leans his elbows on his knees and rests his face in his hands, huffing out a long sigh. This is worse than he ever thought.

“I guess the bodily functions win no matter who has control of the brain.” Cas chuckles as he walks back into the room, retaking his seat on the couch.

“Hey, buddy. Anna was relating a few her memories.”

“Oh,” Cas frowns.

“Can I show you this entry?”

Castiel nods and takes the small book from Dean.

_I’m trying really hard to understand what’s going on at the moment. I’m quickly reaching the point where I know I’m going to have to talk about some things and hear things that are going to be unpleasant. But I’m scared inside and can’t seem to take hold of the courage. ~ Castiel_

“What is it your scared of, Cas?”

“I’m scared of facing the truth of what happened to me. I know that the abuse was severe, my therapist has confirmed that for me. I came right out and asked her if I was going crazy or if all these memories were real. She said that only I can determine what is real, but I was certainly not going crazy. So, from that answer, I deduced that the abuse was real. I still don’t know the extent of what happened. But I know David and Anna know. And шаблон knows everything.”

“I haven’t met Shablon,” Dean replies.

“You don’t want to. He’s scary. He bellows in Russian. Sometimes when I’m not paying attention, or an alter is causing havoc, I hear шаблон yelling. He frightens me.”

“I’m not going to try to force anything, Cas. You’re alright; we’ll just chat some more.”

“Шаблон - хозяин этого дома. Все дети должны повиноваться, чтобы оставаться в безопасности. Шаблон легко позаботится о всех, кто посмел навредить детям.” Barks a deep voice with a very thick Russian accent.

“I feel sick.” Jimmy’s little voice whines.

“Like you’re going to be sick?” Dean is shocked and off balance by the quick change. And by the appearance, however quick (and frightening) of Shablon. Cas was right, Dean doesn’t feel any need to meet that alter ever again - and he has no idea what the man said.

“Yeah.” He whines, clutching a pillow and curling up on the couch.

“Why? What’s made you feel sick?” Dean hands Jimmy his favorite blanket. Perhaps Cas/Jimmy was frightened by Shablon, and that is why he feels sick.

“I don’t know.” He turns over and faces the back of the couch in the fetal position.

Dean watches Cas - Jimmy - sleep and thinks about what he has learned, and how even more questions have arisen after speaking with the so-called authorities.  Was Castiel a victim of ritualistic torture and abuse? Were the memories shared by his alternates even real memories? Is it possible that Castiel is faking the whole thing, as that one ‘False Memory’ expert claims? But seeing his best friend curled up sucking his fingertip and cuddling a security blanket; Dean realized that none of that matters. This is Castiel’s reality, this is how he leads his life, and it is not easy.

Castiel is able to share some of his own views, uninterrupted.

“At times, it can be quite amusing. But at other times, the times when I’m in pain, and I hear a child inside me cry; the experience is so real. Having a child crying inside my head even though the child is invisible; he’s real inside me. And I’m unable to console that child, that’s difficult. This is a difficult condition to live with. I’m never alone, and very often not in control.”

Cas’s psychiatrist had said, “Healing someone with DID means more than curing the symptoms or just reintegrating the personalities into one. That would seem to be the obvious goal of treatment. But we need to think about the ability of the person to be able to live with whatever they are suffering from and recognize that it’s actually a way that nature has provided for a person to get by in this life.”

When Dean asks Cas about the idea of reintegrating, Cas does have an opinion.

“It’s a tricky issue really. I used to be really really anti-integration, whereas now, I don’t mind the idea of some of the personalities being integrated. But Jimmy… I’d like to keep hold of because that little guy has seen me through some tough times. And, I’d miss his little voice in my head. I’d miss all of their voices in my head.” Cas lays back on the couch with his hands tucked behind his head, and his feet crossed, completely casual.

“It’s bizarre because, at the beginning, I thought I was going crazy. Then I figured it might be easier to just be completely mad than to have all these voices in my head. But I’ve moved on and accepted the diagnoses and gradually got to know my inner selves. Jimmy is the childlike part of me. I just. I really I don’t want integration.” Cas grins, a wicked little twinkle in his eyes.

Dean may never know the full extent of what really happened to Cas, but the truth of it is that he really only wishes for Cas to be happy. For his alters to stop harming him and for his scars to heal, inside and out.

The Castiel that Dean knows has always seen the world through innocent eyes. When they were kids, Dean always called Cas his little angel, because he’d never known anyone else so unique and because Cas could magically get them out of just about any trouble. He gave him the nickname Angel during their special _not-dating_ times, whenever they were alone, and Dean wanted to cuddle.

Dean decides to sublet his apartment in New York and finds a small house in Kansas City, not too far from Cas. Now that he has experienced life close to his family again, and he Cas back in his life, he has no desire ever to let them go again. Dean wants to continue writing humanitarian stories on his blog and show the world that there are good people out there. He wants to travel less and experience life in a whole new way right here in Kansas. Dean wants Castiel to teach him to see the world through the eyes of an angel.

THE END

 

 

 

WRITER’S NOTE: Russian phrase (as close as Google Translate can get it)

p.s. I have a frind who is working on a better translation and will update once we have it taken care of, so if you're interested, please check back.

Шаблон - хозяин этого дома. Все дети должны повиноваться, чтобы оставаться в безопасности. Шаблон легко позаботится о всех, кто посмел навредить детям.

Shablon - khozyain etogo doma. Vse deti dolzhny povinovat'sya, chtoby ostavat'sya v bezopasnosti. Shablon legko pozabotitsya o vsekh, kto posmel navredit' detyam.

Shablon is the master of this house. All the children must obey to remain safe. Shablon will easily take care of any who dare harm the children.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Comments and kudos are welcome.  
> Please be kind - there is never any reason to leave unkind comments.  
> If you don't like this short story, feel free to move along and I never even have to know you were here.


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